


Short Rest

by viciousmollymaukery



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Essek Thelyss POV, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Spoilers for Campaign 2 Episode 128, Warning: Trent Ikithon, and a good cathartic cry, y'all really thought i wasn't gonna write an Anti Scry Necklace fic huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciousmollymaukery/pseuds/viciousmollymaukery
Summary: Essek receives an Amulet of Proof from Caleb when they arrive back in Eiselcross. It takes a bit of time to start working.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 12
Kudos: 197





	Short Rest

**Author's Note:**

> ***Spoilers for c2e128 ahead***
> 
> I know everyone and their mother has written some version of this hypothetical scene at this point, but you're getting my version as well. Mild CW for panic attacks, references and allusions to Caleb's backstory/Trent Ikithon. As always, kudos and comments are appreciated if you're so inclined.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_Hiiiii Essek, so, we’re coming back to you now. Man, we missed you so much. Shit went DOWN. Caleb is like, soooooooo excited to see—_

Jester’s voice cuts off in Essek’s mind, but he’s thankful for the respite it’s given him from filling out the report he’s been staring at for what feels like the entire time since they’ve left. He clears his throat before responding. _“Jester, it is good to hear your voice. I’m… sorry to hear you ran into trouble. See you soon.”_

He tactfully does _not_ mention what she said about Caleb, or any of the implications therein. His feelings are a tangled knot sitting in his chest, as complicated and intricate as the web he’s spun and now seems to be snared in. With their current situation and how much danger all of them are in, the last thing he wants to do is start unraveling them.

There’s the sound of a commotion from beyond the door of his chambers, which he takes to be the sign that the Mighty Nein have arrived. Essek quickly stands up and makes his way down the halls towards the outside of the illusory spires, as eager to see his friends again as he is to defuse the situation they’ve found themselves in. Thankfully they are no longer complete strangers to the people stationed at the outpost, and as he steps out into the evening lit landscape of Eiselcross, he sees crossbows being lowered and swords being sheathed as the Mighty Nein all get to their feet in wake of Teleporting.

“Friends, friends, we’re friends!” Jester yells, waving her symbol of the Bright Queen around and almost dropping it as she stands up. 

“They’re fine, let them through,” Essek says to the guards, who are quick to follow his orders and stand to the side. 

A cursory glance over all of them as they’re ushered inside paints an interesting picture of what they may have gotten up to these past few days. He sees singed clothes, bruised skin, and bags under eyes that look even heavier than his own. Essek wastes no time escorting them deeper into the outpost towards his own chambers, the consequences of being seen potentially ‘colluding’ with them all be damned.

“So,” he sighs once he’s completed the incantation to silence anyone who may be listening in, “how was your journey? Were things fruitful, or…?”

Essek trails off, taking in the miserable sight of them all as they collapse onto his carpet, his chairs by the fire, and any horizontal surface they can find that doesn’t seem likely to inflict any more damage onto them. Yasha falls diagonally across his bed, and if it weren’t for Beauregard lifting her head to rest it in her lap, Essek would be concerned about her ability to breathe.

“Well, in some ways, it went very well, and in others, it went absolutely horribly and we’re now far worse for wear and may have an entire country after us,” Fjord says from his spot next to Jester on the floor.

Essek exhales slowly, trying to keep his heart from jumping up into his throat. He should have expected something like this, of course, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. “I see,” he says. “What, um… what _exactly_ have you done?”

Caleb—who has, up until this time, been staring blankly into the remaining embers in Essek’s fireplace—speaks up. “We attempted to steal a number of amulets from the premises of a property controlled by the Cerberus Assembly and are now on the run from Trent Ikithon,” he says flatly.

Before Essek can even begin to formulate an appropriate response to any of that, Caleb abruptly snaps out of his reverie and stands up, knocking Veth away from him as he does. He steps towards Essek and digs through his pockets, finally pulling out a chain necklace with a slim orange eye-shaped pendant hanging from it.

“I—this will keep you safe from… from _him._ Please, will you put it on?”

There’s an undercurrent of desperation and anger in Caleb’s voice that hadn’t been there a moment ago, and it’s so strong that it freezes Essek where he stands. He carefully takes the necklace and examines it for a moment, taking the brief time to Identify it. Sure enough, it seems to be what Caleb describes. 

“This is one of the ones you stole from the Assembly?” Essek asks, studying Caleb’s reaction as he does.

Caleb hesitates briefly before he says, “Yes. We… at the time, the plan was to use them to keep us safe from _other_ prying eyes, but now it seems they’ll be guarding us on multiple fronts.” He takes a deep, shaky breath before continuing. “I… while we were attempting this excursion, I used a dunamancy spell that—that I had reverse engineered from having seen you use it in the past. I fear now that… Ikithon most certainly knows that _you_ were responsible for my instruction in this magic, and there is a possibility that he will use you to get to me.” 

Essek’s mouth goes dry as Caleb meets his gaze. “He is a monster, and he is relentless,” Caleb continues. “He will stop at nothing to hurt those—to hurt those close to me. Please, until we can deal with him, will you wear it?”

The chain feels much colder and heavier in Essek’s hands than it did a moment ago, as he realizes that he’s physically holding his lifeline. He nods. “I will,” he says softly as he slips the amulet around his neck and tucks it under his robes. “Thank you.” 

Caleb relaxes a fraction as he puts it on, and that alone makes it worth doing. “I fear I cannot give us the tower tonight,” Caleb says as he pulls a hand over his face, “but I can give us the dome, like old times.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Caduceus chimes in. “I can start making some tea and getting a prayer set up for everyone. I think we’re all a little worse for wear after that journey.”

The others mumble and groan their assent, and Essek’s chambers are quickly transformed into makeshift sleeping arrangements for the Mighty Nein, all various degrees of unwilling or unable to leave these four walls. He removes the amulet from under his shirt and looks over it as they settle down for the night. Such a small thing, but with such vast implications for all of them by simply existing here.

“It will take some time to work,” Caleb says softly from next to him. He’s wrapped tightly around himself, fingers squeezing into his forearms through his coat. “About twenty-seven more minutes. But when it does, you’ll be safe.”

Essek nods again. “I understand. Thank you, again.” He has questions, of course, but they can wait until the current crisis is a bit more mitigated if not entirely passed. 

Caleb stares at the pendant in his hand for a moment, then shakes himself and removes a small glass bead from his component pouch. By the time Caduceus is passing cups of tea around to everybody, a large shimmering dome pops into existence around them.

“We likely can’t be Scryed on in here,” Caleb says as he stands up, “so we should be safe until morning.”

“That’s good,” Beauregard says from the bed. Yasha is already snoring next to her. “We’ve got a big fucking day tomorrow.”

Jester yawns dramatically and stretches her arms out, nearly smacking Fjord in the face as she settles down with an arm around his waist. “We’ll kick the Tomb Takers’ butts, for sure,” she mutters into a throw pillow.

The others give less confident sounds of affirmation as they claim various blankets and spots throughout the room. Essek is… a bit lost at this sudden display of casual intimacy, he’s willing to admit, but he sits back in one of the plush chairs and examines the necklace again, his mind drifting. 

There’s a strange chirping sound by his feet, and a moment later Frumpkin jumps into his lap, already purring and kneading at the thick robes that cover his legs. Caleb himself sits in the chair right next to him, pulling a blanket around himself and staring again at the fireplace. 

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says after several minutes. “I’ve put you in danger, and there’s no excuse for that.”

Essek snorts. “I was already in danger well before this happened, as you may recall,” he chides gently, not seeking to upset Caleb any more than he already was. “And now at least I have some added protection.”

An almost-smile flickers at the corner of Caleb’s mouth. “You will in three more minutes, at least,” he says quietly. Near his feet, Veth snores loudly and turns over onto her stomach. “But, I still should have been more careful. It’s… your involvement aside, he is… invested in me. In what I may become.” Again Caleb squeezes his forearms. Again there’s that pull in Essek’s chest to reach out and pull his hands away. “I would put nothing past him if it means accomplishing his desire of bringing me back into the fold.” 

“I understand,” Essek says. He’s not sure he does, but it feels like the best thing he can say right now. “And I believe you. I will be careful, even more so than I was before.”

Caleb seems to deflate at that, the tension he’s been holding within himself draining a bit more. “Thank you. I know that things are… complicated, to say the least, but I have no desire to see you fall into his hands.”

That’s… something, for sure. “I certainly have no desire to fall into his hands either,” Essek says, “so we’re in agreement on that. Neither of us will let either get too close to him. How does that sound?”

Caleb nods at that, slowly at first but then more vigorously. _“Ja_ , I would certainly agree to that.” He pauses, and his eyes darken again with that same haunted look. “I know you likely have questions about my— _history_ with him.”

Essek is already shaking his head. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I know he is dangerous, and cunning, and untrustworthy. That is enough, for now. And if you are saying that he is deadly and is hunting you all, I trust you, and I will do what I can to help.” 

He recalls the handful of times he’d met with Trent Ikithon during his communications with the Cerberus Assembly. His impressions had been far from good, and every encounter had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Everything Caleb was saying just confirmed what he already knew, and a few of his own suspicions. That was all he needed.

Caleb drops his eyes, looking at the floor between them as if it held the secrets of the universe. “I see,” he murmurs after a while. “Still, I will give you the full story sometime soon. Perhaps when I have enough magic left that I can actually _show_ you,” he chuckles, examining his own fingers as he traces different somatic components. 

“If you would like to tell it, then I’ll hear it,” Essek whispers, ears twitching backwards as someone, probably Yasha, turns over with a grunt. 

Caleb looks up at him then, and his face is so soft, so tortured, that that same _something_ in Essek’s chest pulls apart to the point of breaking. “Thank you, friend,” he whispers with a smile.

“Of course,” Essek manages.

Then there’s a _hum_ from the amulet where it rests against his chest, and a small wave of magical energy seems to wash over and around and _through_ him, setting into a faint buzz at the back of his skull that’s almost not there at all. Caleb’s eyes drop to the pendant in question a split second later.

“I believe the required time has passed,” Caleb says carefully. “There’s no way he can see us now.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Essek responds, lifting the amulet from where it sits against his sternum. “I—”

He’s cut off as Caleb abruptly collides with him, almost tipping the chair over as he throws his arms around Essek and squeezes him tightly, face pressed into his neck. Essek is stunned and freezes in fear for a second or two as Caleb shakes before realizing that he’s _crying_ , deep violent sobs that seem to emanate from his very core. 

He carefully wraps his own arms around Caleb, drawing the taller wizard more or less into his lap with only minor difficulty. Caleb cries almost silently save for the occasional shuddering breath, which breaks Essek’s heart in its own way, but none of the others are waking up so he considers it a small blessing in this particular circumstance. 

Essek murmurs and whispers what words of comfort he can as he awkwardly grabs a blanket off of the floor with one hand and wraps it around them both. Frumpkin, having been suddenly evicted from his spot on Essek’s lap, cautiously re-approaches and jumps up onto an armrest. He strokes Caleb’s back, hand running up and down his spine and occasionally forming wide circles between his shoulder blades.

“Breathe,” Essek whispers as Caleb’s throat hitches. He raises his other hand and pulls it carefully through Caleb’s hair. “Just… breathe.”

Caleb does just that, taking several deep breaths to gradually calm himself down. He goes more or less limp in Essek’s arms, slumping against him with entirely justified exhaustion. Eventually, his breathing becomes so slow that Essek realizes he’s fallen asleep.

Essek stares for a long time at the human now sleeping in his arms, filled with an emotion so strong he fears he may drown in it. He tucks a few more strands of hair behind Caleb’s ear, fixes the blanket around them one final time, and presses the lightest of kisses he can manage to his forehead. He doesn’t sleep for a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Caleb can have a good old fashioned cry session. As a treat. He's earned it.


End file.
